I don't know who first coined this phrase, but it haunts me almost daily. I recently heard it spoken during a routesetting clinic I attended a little over a year ago. Our instructor noted that you could be upset if you did not have the [climbing] holds you wanted or the ability to use power tools and you could blame those things for your terrible bolted climbing route, but ultimately people would really see it for what it was: poor craftsmanship.
During my educative years at Point Loma Naz. in San Diego, I noticed something about accessible photography in that time period and it caused me to come up with a theory: maybe a person could actually take REALLY good photography with a disposable camera. Sure, several limitations arise from the concept of a disposable camera, like lighting, focus, speed, f-stop, and lens interchangeability (to name a few), but the artistic value concepts of balance, placement, composition, etc. could still be applicable if one is willing to work within those confines of the tool given to them (e.g., the disposable camera). I think by the end of my college career I had at least two solid examples that proved my theory enough to me.
Recently, my Canon 20D shot its last photo. I could not revive the 8.2 megapixel (good for its day) DSLR; it was dead. My son graciously (after some convincing) allowed me to use his shock/storm/water-proof Fujifilm point-and-shoot. At first, as to be expected, I was pretty bummed at the quality, or lack thereof, of the photos I attempted to take. Sunrises, contrast of leaves in trees, or the speed of the ground beneath my bike all felt nearly impossible to capture when I wanted to. I felt at a total loss.
Then, I remembered this theory I had back in college and how I could possibly put that to use now. True, I would not get to show people exactly what I wanted to show them, nor always capture the catharsis I wanted, but at least I could exercise a bit of artistic knowledge with the tool I had. Nevertheless, my hunt for a replacement DSLR (5D, maybe :) is on! Until then, I would like to thank my eldest son for allowing me to test out his camera.
